


Mea Culpa

by ivanna



Series: Carpe Diem [6]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magnificent Seven AU: ATF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-16 08:56:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivanna/pseuds/ivanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris got shot and Vin was blaming himself. Sequel to 'Abiens, Abi'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mea Culpa

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Farad for beta reading.

Chris was mad. Many other feelings tore apart his soul, but he suppressed them and nourished his anger. He didn't want to think about the other things, he didn't even want to recognize them. Emptiness. Loneliness. Fear. Pain. The pain was so agonizing that he barely could breathe. Damn it to hell, he should know better! Damn it to hell, he knew it – never let his guard down. Now his guard was ruined, his bare soul was bleeding and his life was broken into small pieces. Vin Tanner made it all happen with only two words. 'I quit.'

Chris swore and struck the steering wheel. A sharp pain shot through his hand, but it was nothing comparing to the agony in his chest. 

Damn Vin Tanner to hell. As they said – nothing good comes out of Texas. Holy truth! Tanner could go back to his Texas or wherever he pleased, Chris wouldn't lift a finger to stop him. He didn't need him. He didn't need anybody. 

But deep inside, at the back of his mind Chris knew he needed Vin. Needed him more than the next breath, the next heartbeat. Vin had become his life the moment Chris looked into those young and, at the same time, ancient eyes, the eyes that were more blue than the height of the sky and depth of the ocean. 

Damn it, he was so pathetic. Vin had left him and never would come back. He would live the rest of his life alone in the emptiness of his home, and his heart would be an empty shell too. 

The sharp screech of tires on asphalt brought him back to reality. He drove the RAM to the Federal Building. Only 20 minutes earlier, he had left Vin's apartment. Those 20 minutes were an eternity for him. And a meaningless eternity was waiting for him ahead. 

He drove to the building and parked the RAM in the underground garage. His mood was blacker than a thundercloud when he took the elevator to the 11th floor and entered Team 7's bullpen. The guys were at their desks but Chris ignored them. He stormed to his office and firmly closed the door. He couldn't tell them about Vin's leaving right now. Not in this state of mind. 

A sharp phone ring hit his nerves. Chris grabbed up the phone and barked, "Larabee." The voice of A. D. Travis answered him and Chris groaned inwardly. An urgent job was just what he needed right now. Saying "Yes, sir", Chris hung up and ran out of his office.

"Dobson needs a back up, his op went wrong. Grab your gear," he ordered. 

A few minutes later Team 7 minus one team member was ready for the field op and left the Federal Building.

7777777

Vin was late for work. He had never done it before but now he didn't care. He had decided to leave. The explanation to Chris had taken all his strength and he needed to calm down before going to work. He didn't stop in Team 7's bullpen but went straight to A. D. Travis. He asked Travis' secretary Gloria Potter for a sheet of paper and wrote his application to transfer. A few minutes later, Mrs. Potter let him enter Travis' office. 

A. D. Travis raised his eyebrows in surprise when he saw Vin. His eyebrows rose a bit more when he listened to Vin. Vin stood in front of his desk with bowed head and stammered about that he wanted to transfer to another ATF field office or resign if the former was impossible. Finishing his speech, Vin handed Travis the sheet of paper. Travis took it.

"Has Chris seen this?" he asked.

"He knows, sir."

Travis ran his eyes over the paper and set it aside. "You didn't explain why you want to do it," he said looking carefully at Vin.

"For personal reasons."

"Oh, youth," Travis exhaled and said aloud, "Such things aren't done in a hurry. I want you to be sure." 

"I'm sure, sir."

Travis raised his hand silencing him. "No. You worked very hard these last months. I want you to take a couple of weeks of leave. Rest and think about it. If your decision is the same, I'll give you recommendations and help you to find new workplace." 

"I need to leave Denver as soon as possible!" Vin exclaimed in despair.

"A good idea. Contact the travel agency and go to some nice place. Now you are free to go. I'll tell Chris when he comes back."

"Comes back? From where?"

"I sent Team 7 to help Dobson. Was a little surprised to see you here but it's all right, you aren't in any shape for the op right now. There are other snipers." 

But Vin didn't listen to the end of his statement. He ran out of the office. 

7777777

Vin reached the location of the op at top speed. He knew the place because the whole ATF had talked about that op in the last few days but only a small part of his mind was occupied by driving the jeep. Chris was there under fire and he didn't watch his back. No matter how many snipers covered the ATF agents - Vin wasn't protecting the most important person in his life. All his sound reasons and final decisions meant nothing now when Chris was in danger. 

A police cordon blocked the street. Vin jumped out of the jeep and rushed forward. His blood roared in his ears and he didn't hear the police officer who shouted to him. He stopped only when someone's hand grabbed his arm.

"Sir, you can't go there," Vin finally heard and looked at the police officer. 

"I’m with ATF," he answered hastily. 

"Please, show me your badge."

Vin quickly fumbled it onto the belt of his jeans and thanked God that he hadn't left it on Travis' desk. He showed his badge to the police officer and immediately was free to go. He ran a few steps and then heard the unmistakable sound.

Shots. 

He was late. He forced himself to move as fast as possible. Running, he pulled out the SIG and prepared to fire. He reached the crime scene and took cover then looked around. He spotted where the bad guys were covering, found a few his teammates and saw that Dobson's guys were pinned by a sniper. He quickly figured out the sniper's location but he couldn't take him from his position. In the next second he saw Chris and his heart froze in horror.

Chris also knew they couldn't get the sniper from where they were hiding, and they couldn't procrastinate. He broke cover, jumped into the open and fired. 

"Get down, Larabee!" Vin shouted.

But his hoarse voice was lost in the roar of shooting. Chris didn't hear him. He was standing exposed to bullets and only the fabric of his shirt was covering his chest. He fired at the enemy positions and in the next moment his body jerked and started falling down, the red stain blossoming on his blue shirt.

"NO!!!" 

Vin got up and rushed forward. He paid no attention to shots, shouts, anything. All he could see and could think about was Chris' body sprawled on the ground. He reached Chris and covered him with his own body. Raising his SIG he killed the man who had taken Chris away from him. 

The shooting ceased but Vin didn't notice it. All his senses were numb. The only thing he felt was life leaving Chris along with the blood that soaked their clothes. 

"Chris! Vin! Officers down! Ambulance! Hurry up!"

Someone's hands grabbed Vin and dragged him from Chris' body. Vin fought the grip trying to break free but huge strong hands kept him tight. 

"Vin, are you hit? Vin!"

Other hands palpated his body, then somebody drawled, "Seems he isn't, the blood is Chris'. It's a miracle."

Chris. The name slapped Vin's mind and brought him back to reality. He watched as a man – Nathan, yes, it was Nathan – bent over Chris' body and checked the pulse, then tore the bloody shirt. The dark hole was under Chris' right nipple, blood poured out of it. 

"He's alive. But the wound is very bad," Nathan said.

He pressed a cloth to the wound trying to stop the bleeding. Chris stirred and moaned. His lips twitched and he whispered, "Vin… don't leave me… please."

Chris' plea crushed Vin. It was his fault. Chris got shot because of him. Because he left him. 'I quit,' he said. It pushed Chris too hard. And he knew he was pushing Chris too hard when he was saying it. He knew how Chris was afraid to lose him. And he made Chris' greatest fear real. And now Chris was dying because of him. Because he was going to leave Chris. It was his fault. 

"Vin? Vin! He's passing out!"

No, he wasn't. He couldn't get away so easy. He should stay here and watch what he did. 

Paramedics surrounded Chris and quickly got to work. Vin didn't know what they were doing and didn't want to know but he couldn't take his eyes off Chris. Chris became restless, he repeated his plea over and over, "Vin… don't leave… Vin…"

He coughed and a stream of blood flowed from his mouth. 

"Punctured lung… He is drowning in his own blood… He shouldn't talk…" 

Vin caught the paramedics' words and they made him sick. 

"Who is Vin? Is he here?" one paramedic asked aloud.

"It's me," Vin rasped. 

The paramedic looked at him. He didn't like what he'd seen – the young guy in bloody clothes looked as if he could collapse at any moment and he needed medical attention himself. But the dying man needed this guy. 

"Come here and keep him quiet," the paramedic ordered. 

Vin tensed. A deep voice near his ear asked him – Josiah's voice, Josiah was one who held him, Vin realized, "Can you do it, son?"

Vin nodded. Josiah released him and Vin fell to his knees beside Chris. He put his hand on Chris' forearm and clasped it in their special handshake. 

"I'm here, Chris. I'll never leave you," Vin whispered. "Hey, Cowboy, do you hear me? I'll never leave you."

Chris turned his hand and squeezed Vin's wrist. Chris' skin was cold, too cold.

Paramedics continued to work. They bandaged the wound and started an IV, the different sensors monitored Chris' condition. Vin picked up the snippets of their conversation, "Almost done… he hit his head, give me the collar… the BP goes down… hurry up…" 

Chris coughed again, blood was steaming constantly from his mouth now. Vin wanted to close his eyes but he couldn't. He looked at Chris knowing this sight would haunt him forever. Nausea rose in Vin's throat but he couldn't be weak now. He should hold Chris' hand. Chris' life was in his hands. And he would never let it go. He would never leave Chris. He would be with Chris at any costs. Even if it would cost him his own life. 

Chris' breathing became more difficult, the air came out of his lungs in hoarse grunts. Vin watched in horror as Chris struggled convulsively for the next breath and then his chest stopped heaving. 

"No!!! Chris!!! He's not breathing, help him!"

Paramedics shoved Vin away. Chris was placed in the ambulance and more equipment was attached to him. Someone shook Vin and shouted, "Vin! Vin! He's alive!"

Nathan. It was Nathan, and Nathan knew what was going on. Vin tried to calm down and listen.

"He can't breathe because his lung is damaged, they hooked him to a mechanical ventilator. Go with him to the hospital, he needs you. We'll follow you." 

Vin nodded. He climbed in the ambulance and took Chris' hand again. The ambulance raced to the hospital.

7777777

Vin sat hunched over the plastic chair in the waiting room near the ER. He wanted to follow Chris into the ER, he fought for it with nurses and orderlies but he wasn't allowed. Chris was taken away from him and Vin didn't believe he would see him alive again. When he had seen Chris for a last time, Chris' skin was ashen and waxy, he was still and lifeless, only the mechanical inhalation of oxygen moving his chest. 

Vin was led to the waiting room and seated in the chair. Somebody asked him if he needed a doctor. No, he didn't. Why should he need one if Chris was dying? A paper cup was shoved into his hand and Vin automatically drank the hot bitter liquid. Then somebody gave him papers and asked him to fill them out. He was asked about Chris' insurance and his ID was taken. Then somebody brought the medical record with Chris' name on it and more questions followed. They asked him to sign the admission papers, the insurance forms and the update to the durable power of attorney. Then they asked him to sign the surgical permit. 

Vin looked at the printed form and couldn't understand what they wanted from him, what he should do to save Chris' life. He couldn't read the text, letters and lines were blurred and he helplessly looked up at the man before him.

"Mr. Tanner, my name is Dr. Bishop. Are you the next of kin of Chris Larabee?"

Vin couldn't find his voice and nodded. 

"Mr. Larabee needs emergency surgery, every minute counts. I need your signature on this form." 

"H-how bad..?"

"I'll not lie to you, his condition is critical. I promise you, I'll do everything I can to save his life but I need your permission." 

Panic washed over Vin. He was responsible for Chris' injury and now he was responsible for Chris' surgery. He couldn't bear it. But he should. He took a pen with a trembling hand and clumsily signed the form. The doctor grabbed the papers and disappeared. 

Vin was left alone. Exhausted and whacked, he sat motionless and didn't notice the sympathetic looks of the staff. He didn't know how long he had been in this state, then familiar voices brought him back to reality. His teammates entered the waiting room and surrounded Vin. 

"Vin? How is he?"

"He… he's in surgery now… he's… he's very bad…" Vin tried to answer.

"I'll try to find out something," Nathan said and went to the nurse's station. 

Buck sat beside Vin and put his hand on the slouched shoulder. "Vin, he'll be fine. He'll make it."

His attempt to comfort brought the opposite result. Vin trembled and mumbled, "No, no, it's my fault."

"What do you mean 'your fault'?" Buck frowned. "Chris did such stunts before, long before he met you." 

"This time he did it because of me. I made him mad. It's my fault."

"Now, Vin, don't start talking like that," Josiah said but Vin shook his head.

"No, you don't understand. This morning I told him I quit."

Everyone stared at Vin in disbelief. Finally Buck broke the silence, "You're saying you quit Team 7?"

Vin nodded. "The team. And Chris."

"Why?!" JD exclaimed. It was like a nightmare, it couldn't happen in the real world. 

"I don't know now," Vin whispered.

Tears welled his eyes and ran down his pale dirty cheeks. Vin wiped them, then looked at his hand and frowned. His hands were red. Blood-red. It was blood, he realized. Chris' blood. His hands were stained with Chris' blood. The wave of nausea rose into his throat. 

Ezra pushed apart his teammates and grabbed Vin's arm. "C'mon, Vin."

He got Vin up from the chair and dragged him to the restroom. There he pushed Vin into the stall and held him while Vin vomited. When the spasms of nausea subsided, Ezra led Vin to the sink and helped him to clean up his face and hands. Then Ezra took off Vin's bloodied shirt and threw it in the trash. Vin's t-shirt and jeans were covered with blood too but they could do nothing about it. 

Vin felt marginally better. He touched Ezra's shoulder and rasped, "Thanks, Ez."

"Don't mention it, Mr. Tanner." 

"What do I do now?" 

"Now you can do nothing. Only wait." 

"He was… he was so lifeless when they took him to the ER. What if he…"

"Don't start talking like that," Ezra repeated Josiah's words. "Chris is too stubborn to give up. Now, let's go back to the waiting room. Perhaps Nathan gets some news." 

Vin nodded and followed Ezra. Only Buck and JD were sitting in the waiting room. Buck explained that Josiah had gone to the hospital chapel. Vin and Ezra sat in the uncomfortable plastic chairs and resumed the wait. Vin stared at the wall in front of him. It had been painted apricot. Vin hated this color. It was the color of despair. This whole room was soaked with hopelessness and despair.

Nathan came back. He couldn't find out anything except that Chris was still in surgery. 

Five hours later the tired doctor came into the waiting room. Vin's heart pounded when he recognized Dr. Bishop. He wanted to run to him but his legs refused to obey. Dr. Bishop recognized Vin too and went to him.

"Are you here for Chris Larabee?" he asked eyeing the motley group.

Team 7 got up and surrounded him. Vin's movements had no trace of his usual grace. 

"Yeah, we're Chris' friends," Buck answered. "How is he?"

"My name is Dr. Bishop. Mr. Larabee is in the ICU now, you'll be allowed to see him in 15 minutes. Only one or two person at a time for a few minutes. He's still in critical condition but I'm positively inclined about his recovery." 

"What are Chris' injuries?" Nathan asked.

"The bullet broke a rib and punctured his right lung. We took control of the extensive internal bleeding and have inserted a surgical drain. The intra-op arteriogram didn't show any major disruption of the blood supply so we hope we haven't missed any damage in the blood system. Also we hope nerves aren't damaged either but we'll find it out when Mr. Larabee regains consciousness. Because of his punctured lung, he has lost the ability to breathe normally and requires mechanical ventilation. We hooked him up to an intensive-care ventilator with a double-lumen endotracheal tube. In case he starts bleeding again from that right lung, we can isolate the left and prevent blood from getting into that side and causing further damage. Also Mr. Larabee has a mild brain injury as a result of his fall. The CT scan shows no severe damage but again, we'll be sure when he regains consciousness. Unfortunately I can't tell you when that will happen." 

Nathan asked a few questions but Vin didn't listen anymore. He had a feeling that the doctor was going to say 'if it happens'. Panic had swept him again. His vision became blurred, he fought for a breath of air, realizing that his breathing was too fast and shallow. He swayed and strong hands caught him. Buck's, Vin recognized. Chris used to say 'we can always count on Buck'. Buck never let Chris down. Unlike Vin. Chris was dying because of Vin. He needed to see Chris. 

"I need to see Chris," Vin said aloud but his voice was a barely audible whisper.

The doctor looked closely at him and frowned. "You need medical care, young man," he said, "I'll call the nurse."

"No, I don't. I need to see Chris."

"Well… Okay. But only a few minutes. Come with me." 

The doctor led them to the ICU area. He stopped in front of one door and motioned Vin to follow him. They entered a ward filled with medical equipment. Vin's gaze turned to the hospital bed in front of him and his heart froze. He exhaled soundlessly, "Chris."

Chris lay still on the bed covered with a blanket, bandages, wires and tubes. His flesh looked waxen. A thick white bandage swathed his pale chest, a plastic tube was inserted between ribs and bloody fluid flowed through it into a container on the floor. Another tube was inserted between his bloodless lips. One more bandage covered the side of his head. Different equipment was hooked to his body and flashed with lights, a mechanical ventilator hissed softly filling his lungs with air and a cardiac monitor beeped showing he was still alive. 

It couldn't be Chris. This body looked like a corpse but not like Chris. But it was him. It was Chris. Vin sat heavily in the chair near the bed, stuck his hand through the raised railing and laced his trembling fingers with Chris' cold lifeless fingers. 

"Has he a chance, Doc?" he whispered. 

"There is always a chance, young man," the doctor answered firmly. 

The doctor went out and Buck took his place but Vin didn't notice it until Buck put his hand on Vin's shoulder.

"Come to my place, it's a few blocks away from the hospital. You've to clean up and change clothes," Buck said quietly.

"No."

"Vin, you should…"

"No. I'll not leave him again."

7777777

Chris was floating in drugged mist, sometimes getting almost to the surface, sometimes sinking into the depths. He was vaguely aware of voices around him, the noise of equipment, the softness of soap water and the hardness of bandages. He felt something in his chest and his throat that prevented him from breathing, and panic rose in his drugged mind. And he always felt the presence of Vin. This was the thread that tied him to this world. 

His first real awakening was filled with fear and pain. His lashes fluttered and through them he saw the familiar slim figure bending over him.

"Vin?" his lips twitched but his battered throat which was free now couldn't make even wheeze. But Vin heard him. 

"I'm here, Chris. I'm with you."

Chris' lips moved again and Vin read them, "I love you." 

Vin's throat caught and he couldn't answer. Instead of words, he took Chris' hand and squeezed his limp fingers. Then people filled the ward and he was pushed away from Chris. 

 

When Chris woke the second time Vin wasn't here. The chair near the bed was occupied by Buck who was sitting comfortably and reading the paper. When he noticed that Chris had opened his eyes, he threw the paper away and greeted Chris, smiling broadly, "Hey, Sleeping Beauty, it's time to wake up! How are you feeling?"

Chris frowned trying to determine. "Don't know," he rasped finally.

"Well, you're looking as if you fell from the ugliest tree and hit every branch on your way down," Buck gladly informed him.

"What happened to me?" Chris asked and his words were barely audible.

Buck raised his eyebrow. "Don't you remember?"

The famous Larabee's glare answered him and Buck's smile became huge. Chris was definitely getting better.

"Well, stud, you had decided that you're made of bulletproof armor. Sadly you were wrong and now you've an extra hole in your body. Also you've proved that your head isn't as thick as it seems. Try not to move it, vomiting is pretty painful for you now because all your insides are raw after that thing called an endotracheal tube."

"What tube?"

"Oh, I didn't say? A bullet punctured your lung. For the past three days, you couldn't breathe on your own. By the way, you better quit talking."

Chris closed his eyes. Buck was right, it was painful to talk and he was tired. But he should ask one question.

"Where's Vin?"

"Ezra dragged him home to sleep. And you sleep too." 

7777777

Three days Vin spent at Chris' bed. The guys brought him his overnight bag so he changed his clothes and washed a bit in the hospital's restroom, refusing to go home. All the time he sat in the chair beside Chris' bed and held Chris' hand. He slept there too, hunching in the chair and putting his head on the bed, pressing Chris' fingers to his lips. The hospital staff quickly grew used to him and did their job without paying attention to him. Only occasionally did they expel Vin from the ward, and he used those times for trips to the restroom and to grab a few bites of food. 

Vin's condition worried Team 7 even more than Chris'. The next day after the surgery, Dr. Bishop informed them that Chris' condition wasn't critical anymore and he would recover. But it didn't make Vin leave Chris. 

"If it continues like this, Chris will wake up and find out that we lost Junior," Buck said to his teammates.

They were standing in the hospital's hall near Chris' ward, waiting, when the doctor let them inside. Suddenly the quiet of the hall was disturbed by a ring and nurses ran to Chris' ward. Dr. Bishop followed soon after them. The guys anxiously looked at the door. After a few minutes it opened and Vin staggered out. The guys caught him. 

"Vin? What's up?" Buck asked.

"Chris. He woke up. The doctor examining him."

A sigh of relief escaped the guys. Josiah whispered a prayer. 

"I saw him become restless and bent over him and then he opened his eyes and called me," Vin said in a trembling voice. The tension of the last days and the shock of the last few minutes took over and Vin began shaking violently. 

"Vin, you need to rest," Nathan said. "Chris will be fine and you'll need all your strength, to give him your support when he recovers."

Nathan's words reminded Vin about his guilt and his pale face became ashen. Suddenly he was afraid to return to the ward and face Chris. 

"Okay," he whispered.

"C'mon, Vin, I'll take you to my place," Ezra said. "You're in no shape to be on your own."

Vin didn't resist and Ezra led him to an elevator.

 

At Ezra's house Vin collapsed on the luxurious bed in the spare bedroom and immediately fell asleep. He was lucky and had no dreams. When he awoke, bright sunlight shone through the lush curtains. It puzzled him a bit because he thought he had fallen asleep in the evening. He looked around and saw his clothes neatly folded beside the bed. It puzzled him too because he had gone to sleep dressed. He got up and went to the bathroom. A hot shower chased away the last remnants of sleep and returned his strength. Vin came back to the bedroom and put on his clothes, enjoying their cleanliness. He left the bedroom and wander around the house, looking for Ezra. He found his host in the dining room, sitting at the set table. 

"Mr. Tanner, your timing is impeccable as always," Ezra said, noticing Vin in the doorway. "Please join me for dinner. Although it's breakfast for you."

A second set of cutlery was set on the table and Vin sat there. 

"Thanks, Ezra."

"My pleasure. Oh, let me apologize for taking your key and going into that godforsaken place you call your apartment, but I was convinced that you really needed to change one set of your decaying castoffs for another."

"Okay. How is Chris?"

"Buck is with him now. He called recently and said that our invincible Mr. Larabee woke again and even spoke a little. Nathan talked with the doctor, he said Mr. Larabee's recovery is going very well. They're going to move him into a private ward. But you aren't eating anything. Please, try this pâté."

Vin took a few bites and put down his fork. The food stuck in his throat. Ezra watched him carefully then said, "Mr. Tanner, in case you didn't understand me, I repeat to you in plain language – Chris will be fine. What's bothering you?"

Vin pushed his plate away, put his elbows on the table and dropped his head in his hands. "He said he loves me."

"I can't say this is a big surprise."

"How can he love me after what I've done? How can I look into his eyes?" 

Ezra sighed. "Something tells me you're not the only one to blame for the current state of your relationship. You don't have to look into his eyes but you have to tell him of your decision to stay. And maybe of your love too. But now isn't the place and time for it. Chris is too weak to deal with strong feelings. You should wait. And now eat, and I'll drive you to the hospital." 

7777777

Chris was lying on his left side and starring at the window in his single ward. The doctor left a few minutes ago, a nurse hadn't yet come, and he was left alone with agony in his chest. And a hole in the left side of his chest where his heart was hurt much more than the hole from the bullet. Gradually he was allowed to remain conscious longer, and the decrease of drugs in his body brought back his memory.

'I quit.'

Vin had said it, and Chris knew Vin never talked to the winds. He vaguely remembered the presence of Vin when he was between life and death but even if it wasn't a product of his blurred mind, Vin could stay until Chris' life was out of danger and then leave. 

Tears ran down Chris' face, leaving scalding traces on his pale skin. He rarely allowed himself the luxury of crying. He didn't cry at the funeral of Sarah and Adam. Only later, much later, after countless bottles of whiskey, drinking with Buck. Then he cried out his soul. He hadn't cry since, thinking he had no more tears left. But he had cried on Vin's shoulder. And now he cried again. 

The door opened and Chris stilled. He recognized the soft footsteps approaching the bed. But he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes, couldn't show his tear-stained face, and he buried it in the pillow, turning away from Vin. Vin came to say goodbye. He couldn't bear it now. Not now. 

Vin was standing near the bed. His heart was broken when Chris deliberately turned away from him.

 

Vin continued to visit Chris in the hospital. When Chris was sleeping - a natural sleep or under the influence of drugs – he entered the ward and sat in the chair near the bed. When Chris was awake he came with somebody else and sat in a far corner, trying to be inconspicuous. He was sitting, saying nothing, and looking at the window or on the floor but not at the bed. 

Chris didn't look at him either. And didn't ask about him when Vin wasn't here for a long time. He tempered himself to a life without Vin. An empty, worthless life. 

Chris insisted on being discharged from the hospital as soon as he got out of bed. He was very weak and had a long way to go before full recovery, but he was determined to do it at home. Taking shelter in his hideout, away from everything and everybody. The doctor didn't want to let him go but finally gave up under his pressure. On the last day of summer, Buck took him to the ranch. 

7777777

Vin knew the time had come. He agreed with Buck that Buck would call him as soon as they got to the ranch. Getting the call, Vin jumped in the jeep and raced to the ranch. All his panic and fear was gone, he was calm and resolute as before the battle. It was a battle too – the most important battle in his life and he wasn't going to lose. He had lost enough battles in his life but this time he would take what belonged to him. He would win Chris and never let him go. 

He sped the jeep. He knew this road by heart, every bump and turn, every pine on the roadside. It was a road to home. 

When he was halfway to the ranch, his cell rang. Vin brought it to his ear.

"Tanner."

"Mr. Tanner, I'm calling to tell you that my money is on you," Vin heard Ezra's voice and smiled.

"Thank you, Ez."

After a few minutes, he drove into Chris' ranch and parked the jeep on its usual spot near the porch. Buck was waiting for him. 

"He's on the deck, he refused to go to bed," Buck informed him. "Good luck, Junior." 

Buck slapped Vin's shoulder encouragingly, climbed in his truck, and drove away. Vin entered the house. Coming into the den, he silently opened the door to the deck and stilled on the threshold. His breath caught, his knees weakened, and he had to lean against the door frame for support. Chris was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

His ivory skin glowed in the warm light of the afternoon sun, his golden hair was tousled by wind. The outline of his perfect profile standing against the background of the yellow-green landscape. Green eyes looking at the mountains in the distance. Long fingers clutching a glass of water but Chris seemed to have forgotten about it. He was completely immersed in his thoughts. Chris wore only khaki shorts and a bandage on his chest and Vin frowned. Chris had lost a lot of weight. Not that he used to have even one ounce of excess weight, but his body had always been fit and muscular. Now his ribs stuck out, his belly was sunken, and Vin doubted that the wound was the only cause of it. 

Chris threw back his head and rolled his left shoulder, stretching stiff muscles, and it pulled Vin out of his stupor. He quietly went to Chris from behind and put his hands on Chris' shoulders. He still remembered how cold and waxy Chris' flesh had been a few weeks ago, and now the tips of Vin's fingers absorbed the warmth of smooth skin. 

Chris was alive, he finally believed it. 

Chris stood still and Vin began to massage his shoulders. A moan of pleasure escaped Chris' full lips, his blond head fell forward, opening his long neck to Vin's greedy eyes. For Vin it wasn't enough just to touch Chris' shoulders. Vin's hands slid down Chris' spine, stroked his shoulder blades, caressed his lower back and wrapped around his thin waist. Vin pulled Chris closer and pressed Chris' bare back to the soft fabric of his faded t-shirt, his lips touched Chris' unprotected neck, his slim fingers sunk under the waistband of Chris' shorts. Chris moaned with pleasure and leaned into the embrace. 

The loud sound of breaking glass brought them back to reality. Chris had forgotten about the glass in his hand and it slipped out of his limp fingers. Vin felt the fragile body in his arms tense, and the next second Chris broke out of his embrace. He stepped back and turned to Vin, putting forward a trembling hand to stop Vin's attempt to approach him, his green eyes where wild and panicked. And then Chris did something he had never done before, that Vin thought he was unable to do – he ran away. He ran into the house, ignoring the scattered shards of glass on the deck's floor which dug into his bare feet. 

Vin resolutely followed him. Hearing his approach, Chris turned around and leaned against the wall of the den. 

"Don't…" Chris tried to order but his voice broke.

Vin raised his dark eyebrows questioningly.

"Don't move!"

Vin kept going, never taking his eyes from Chris. He stopped a step away from Chris and said firmly, "We need to talk."

"We've already spoken. Nothing more to say."

"You think so?"

"What I think is you're already gone."

"I'm right here."

"For how long? A couple of minutes?"

Vin didn't answer, his blue eyes peering into Chris' green. Finally he asked, and his hoarse drawl sounded soft and gently, "What do you remember, Chris?"

"Enough."

"What do you remember, Chris?" this time his voice was more demanding. 

"I remember I acted like a son of a bitch. I pushed you away. You said it was all over between us. You quit." 

Vin waited for more, but Chris was silent. "And then?"

"Then Travis sent us for back up, I got a fucking bullet and when I woke in the hospital you were avoiding me. Why did you come today, Tanner?"

"You don't remember it all, Chris."

Now it was Chris' turn to lift his blond eyebrows. "Really?"

Vin gathered all his patience. He knew it would be difficult and fucking Larabee wasn't going to make his task easier. 

"When you were hit, you called me and asked me not to leave. And when you woke for the first time in the hospital you said you love me." 

Chris went deathly pale. "Even so, it doesn't mean anything."

"It means everything to me. I'll never leave you, Chris. I'll never quit."

Vin's eyes were looking straight at him and Chris knew he told the truth. These eyes had never lied. Chris tried to understand what was going on, what kind of game Vin played with him.

"If this is true, why were you avoiding me in the hospital?"

"I didn't avoid you. I was with you when you were sleeping."

'So Vin's hand on my forearm wasn't a dream,' flashed through Chris' mind. 

"But…"

"Chris, I knew you didn't want to see me. And you were too weak for dealing with my presence."

"But…"

"Enough. I'm gonna say one thing plain and straight. You acted like a jerk during the last weeks and I lost my mind. I had to understand that you were a son of a bitch because you were scared and needed to make your fear go away for good, but instead I made your fear real. I pushed you to the edge, over the edge. It's my fault you lost control, it's my fault you rushed under fire, it's my fault you got shot. Until I die, I'll see your lifeless body and I'll know it's my fault. I almost killed the only person I have ever loved. I love you, Chris," 

Vin looked into Chris' eyes and all his soul was laid bare in his huge bright blue eyes. Chris couldn't resist anymore. He raised his hand and lightly touched Vin's cheek. Vin took Chris' palm and pressed it to his lips, then took a step forward, overcoming the distance between them, He touched Chris' lips with his own. The kiss was light, as if Vin was afraid that Chris could disappear in his hands, but Chris grabbed Vin's shoulders and pulled him closer. For a moment Chris tore himself from Vin's lips and whispered, "I love you, Vin."

Their kiss became greedy, demanding, as if they wanted to catch up on what they had missed. But suddenly Vin felt Chris went limp in his hands. He caught Chris' unconscious body and carried him to the couch. He laid Chris on the couch and lightly patted his pale cheeks. Chris opened bleary eyes. 

"What..?" he muttered looking around in confusion.

"I didn't know that you're passing out from the kiss like a virgin, Larabee," Vin drawled and even with his unfocused eyes, Chris could see the nasty lop-sided grin on Vin's lips.

"Fuck you, Tanner."

"Anytime, anywhere," Vin promised. "But now, you should lay still. You cut your feet on the deck, I'll bandage them."

Vin got up and went to the bedroom for a first aid kit, and Chris watched him. His head was still spinning from the weakness and Vin's return in his life. 

7777777

Vin wasn't experienced in the household – because he had never had a house – but he was determined to give Chris the best care. After treating the cuts on Chris' feet and making Chris comfortable on the couch, he went to the kitchen. The guys had bought enough food and he cooked dinner, then checked on the horses. When he returned to the den, Chris was napping with the muffled TV. Vin paused, admiring Chris' face, so peaceful and beautiful in sleep. How could he ever consider getting away from Chris? How could he be trying to build a new life knowing that once he held perfection in his arms? Knowing that his heart always would belong to Chris? 

Long pale lashes trembled and Vin sat on the edge of the couch, touching Chris' thigh with his own. Reaching out, he brushed golden hair from Chris' high forehead. Chris grabbed Vin's hand and brought it to his face. Vin's fingers were slim with thickened knuckles that gave the impression of fragility. Very misleading impression. Chris ran his tongue over the red stain on Vin's index finger that stood out against his tanned skin. 

"A pot?" he asked.

"A pan." 

'At least I burned my hand, not food,' Vin thought, then asked, "Ready for dinner, Cowboy?"

"Not hungry."

"You need to eat. C'mon."

Chris gave up and Vin helped him to sit. Vin brought plates and they ate in familiar, comfortable silence. After dinner Chris began to fall asleep again. Vin led him to the bedroom and got him into bed then paused in indecision. The events of this day had exhausted him and he decided to leave washing dishes to tomorrow but he hesitated about whether he could sleep with Chris or not. 

Chris opened his eyes and looked at Vin inquiringly.

"Don't think sleeping here is a good idea," Vin explained. "I can touch your wound and hurt you."

"I'm not gonna fall to pieces. Lie down. I miss you."

Vin lay on the bed and embraced Chris. They both needed it – to feel each other physically. Vin smiled burying his face in Chris' hair. Chris felt his smile.

"Mmm?"

"I've thought nobody needs us and we'll make a happy world together, hiding out here for good." 

7777777

Vin was wrong. Team 7 needed them. The next morning the phone at the ranch rang incessantly. All the guys wanted to know how Chris and Vin dealt together and asked for advice on the job. Eventually Vin got the feeling that the ATF's Denver field office would fall to hell without Chris Larabee. 

"No, I won't ask him!" Vin managed to shout into the phone without raising his voice. "JD, if Travis sends you to the shooting range then just turn off your PC, get your ass up and go… No, I won't come to the office, even for five minutes … Bye." 

As soon as he hung up, the phone rang again. "Tanner… Yeah, Nathan… Yeah, he's fine… He's sleeping… Wait a minute, I'll see what drugs are on the counter… Okay, got it… Okay, bye."

When Vin heard ringing again he barely restrained himself from throwing the phone against a wall. 

"Tanner… Hi, Josiah… He's sleeping, and I'll not wake him… Chris' files are always in order so look for it in his desk. Bye." 

He hung up and pondered about turning the phone off. He had turned off Chris' cell a long time ago. Then he felt a presence at his back and all thoughts of phones flew out of his mind. Smiling, Vin turned around. Chris was standing in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the frame. He was sleepy and tousled. 

"Morning, Cowboy."

Chris yawned widely and argued, "Rather afternoon."

Vin went to him and helped him to take a seat. "They woke you?"

"Uhu. What did they want?"

"Buck and Ezra just said hi, JD is in panic because Travis sent him to the shooting range, Nathan instructed me about your drugs, Josiah was looking for the Anderson file."

"Why does he need that file?"

"The trial is today."

"Damn it, I should be there."

"Don't even think about it. Josiah, with his silver tongue, is just the right person for the job." 

"Yeah, you're right. Last time he appeared in court he got a standing ovation." 

Vin put a glass of pomegranate juice before Chris. Chris stared at the dark ruby liquid and asked, "What is this shit? Give me coffee."

"Forget about coffee. Nathan said you need to drink this, it'll help to restore the blood loss."

Chris gave Vin a glare but obediently took a sip. 

Vin served breakfast and they started the meal. After breakfast Vin gathered all the drugs and placed them on the kitchen table. Following Nathan's instructions, he took vials with drugs in turn and shook pills onto his palm. When he took painkillers, Chris caught his hand stopping him. 

"No."

"Larabee, don't be a fool."

Chris continued to hold him. 

"Look, Chris, I know this shit makes your head dizzy but it's only a small problem when you can barely breathe."

"I've seen great soldiers became drug addicts after gunshot wounds," Chris explained quietly. 

Vin looked at him closely. No, Chris wasn't talking about himself. And he hardly could be a drug addict with his will power. Vin took Chris' fingers off his hand and shook out one pill – half the dose. 

"Okay?"

"Okay." 

After Chris swallowed the pills, Vin changed his bandages. By the time he finished, Chris was dozing again, and Vin led him to the den and laid him on the couch. Suddenly Chris opened his sleepy eyes and asked, "Why aren't you at work?"

"Travis put me on leave. Sleep now. I'll be at the barn."

Chris nodded and fell asleep before Vin left the house. 

7777777

Vin had enough chores to occupy his days. He cooked, cleaned, washed, worked in the barn. The ranch was in need of constant care and he was happy to do the hard work that had accumulated over the past weeks. Simple work outdoors, away from people, was the best rest for him and a balm to his whacked soul. During the first days, Chris slept almost all the time, then his strength gradually came back to him, along with an appetite. One morning Vin looked into the fridge and realized that he couldn’t delay any longer and should go shopping. He went to Chris and said apologetically, “Chris, I need to go to the city.”

“Don’t worry, nothing will happen to me in a couple of hours.”

“I know. But I don’t want to leave you. I promised you.”

Chris smiled to him. “I didn't take your promise so literally. I know you'll come back.”

Vin smiled sheepishly in response. The tip of his pink tongue sneaked out and licked his bottom lip. “I look like a fool, right?”

“No,” Chris answered, pulling Vin closer and kissing the tempting lips. “Or we both are fools.”

Vin answered the kiss, it became deep and passionate, then Vin forced himself to step back. Chris liked to risk himself but Vin would be damned if he let him do it. Even if he wanted nothing more than to possess this desired body. A too weak, fragile body. 

Vin quickly got ready and left. He had many things to do in Denver. First of all, he rode to the Federal Building to visit Team 7. The guys came to them at the ranch but didn’t stay for long because of Chris’ weakness. In Team 7's bullpen, Vin was met with cheers and intensive inquiries that looked more like an interrogation. Vin’s appearance reassured guys even more than his words. Vin looked refreshed and confident again.

“Seems like everything's fine at the ranch. They say right, bad luck often brings good luck,” Buck commented aloud after Vin left, saying he didn’t want to leave Chris for a long time. 

 

The next day Mary Travis came to the ranch. The weather was warm and Chris was sitting on the deck, wrapped in a blanket and watching Vin, who brought the horses into the corral and brushed Pony’s glossy black hide. Peso approached him and jealously poked his owner with his nose but Vin pushed him away and explained, “Wait, stubborn mule, I've to take care of Pony as well as Chris.”

Vin didn't wear a shirt, only low sitting jeans and boots covered his slim tanned body, and Chris admired the view before him. He often joked that if he ate as many sweets and as much fast food as Vin, he wouldn't be able to come through the doorway but Vin was still as thin and lithe as a boy. Vin’s brown hair shone in the sunlight, and Chris’ fingers itched from desire to bury themselves in that unruly mass. Soon, very soon he would do it and many other things. Maybe tonight. He couldn’t wait anymore. 

The sound of an approaching vehicle pulled Chris out of making his pleasant plans. Vin tensed, took his shirt off the corral’s fence, threw it on his shoulders and went to the front porch. Chris heard voices, and soon Vin returned with Mary. Seeing Chris, she ran to him, speaking on the run, “Chris, it’s horrible, I found out only today that you got shot. I was filming in Papua, New Guinea, I came back today and Orin told me…”

Vin remembered the documentary about tribes of cannibals in Papua, New Guinea, that he had seen on the Discovery Channel and felt sorry for the poor cannibals.

Mary wanted to hug Chris but hesitated. Chris was pale, wrapped up to his neck in a blanket, and she didn’t know which part of him was hurt.

“Have a seat, Mrs. Travis,” Vin said giving her a chair. 

“Thank you, Vin,” Mary nodded at him regally. 

Chris watched as Vin easily ran down stairs and returned to the corral, and only then did he turn to Mary. 

“Don’t worry, Mary,” he said.

The breeze brought Vin fragments of the meaningless conversation, and he smiled, nuzzling Peso’s neck. He was no longer jealous of Mary. He even felt pity for the cold blonde who had thought she could entrap Chris. 

“But this Cowboy belongs to us, right, Peso?” he whispered in the peaked ear and Peso nodded his head, agreeing. 

Chris didn’t admit even to himself that he was doing everything possible to get rid of Mary. She was his friend, after all. When she finally left, Chris pretended to be tired and Vin immediately led him to the bedroom. But as soon as Chris was laid on the bed, Chris' hands shot up and in the next second, Vin found himself pressed against the mattress.

“Hey!” Vin yelled trying to break free but Chris just laughed.

This laughter made Vin hot and excited. Chris wasted no time. His lips were traveling along Vin’s neck and chest enjoying the taste of the salty skin. 

“Chris… we can’t…” Vin panted, trying to protest.

Chris pulled away from him only for a moment and stated, “We can.”

Chris' hands joined his lips in exploring Vin's body. He didn't have to hold Vin anymore – Vin turned to jelly under Chris' skillful caresses. 

"You're… too… weak…" Vin tried to say, but his words were interrupted by moans. 

Chris laughed again, the sound vibrated on Vin's throat where Chris' lips feasted at that moment. Chris took Vin's hand, pressed it to bulge in his jeans and asked, "You think so?"

"Chrisss…"

"Shut up, Tanner. You talk too much. Do something useful with your smart mouth." 

Vin knew many useful things and thinking about them made him lose control completely. He turned Chris on his back and slid down his body. 

 

'Well done, Tanner, you're taking care of a recovering man just great. Fucking like rabbits is just what he needs right now,' Vin thought much later, sprawling on the crumpled wet sheets and looking at exhausted Chris who was sleeping next to him. Then Vin smiled. If Chris made up his mind, nothing could stop him. 

"You're the most stubborn Cowboy in the world," Vin whispered and kissed Chris' temple. He pulled a blanket over them both and lay down on the pillows. Chris wasn't the only one exhausted. 

7777777

Vin's leave was over and he returned to work. Chris assured him he was strong enough to be on his own during the day. Vin came to the ranch after work. Chris was restoring not only his strength but his temper too. He was bored by inactivity and questioned Vin about what was going on in the office. 

"They've turned Team 7 into checkers of excise stamps!" Chris seethed, pacing the kitchen. 

"Well, I wouldn't say it's a bad thing, Cowboy," Vin drawled, helping himself a second portion of a chocolate dessert. "Ol' Bucklin likes to walk around the shops, tasting goods and salesgirls."

Chris asked silkily, "What do you taste, Tanner?"

Vin winked at him.

"Except Cowboy after work? Boxes with confiscated weapons in the basement." 

 

Chris' patience was over very quickly and during his next visit to the doctor, he insisted on being allowed to return to work. Dr. Bishop wasn't happy with this but finally agreed, prescribing Chris three weeks of light duty. Chris' return to the office was met with general enthusiasm. 

"Never had thought about how hard it is to keep this gang in order," Josiah admitted. "Chris, you're the only one who can handle them."

"Larabee's gang," JD declared. 

Chris gave them his famous glare but everybody could see his sternness was a mask. Chris was happy to see them too. 

"Report on how you're getting on," Chris ordered sitting heavily in a chair near Vin's desk. 

The ride had tired him, although Vin drove the RAM and Chris just sat in the passenger seat. But he would be damned if he admitted his weakness. 

"We finished the Williams case," Josiah started to report. "Yesterday Travis gave us one more case, today we should check some suspicious shop. Ezra exceeded our monthly budget working undercover…" 

"I deign to remind you, Mr. Sanchez, it was expected that I should acquire the things I needed for this case. How can I buy without spending money?" Ezra defended himself. 

"You could spend ten times less than you did."

"I had to be convincing."

"Enough," Chris stopped the discussion. "I'll deal with it. What else?"

"Vin almost broke the copier into pieces," Josiah continued his report. 

Chris looked at Vin who blushed and lowered his eyes. 

"You should have seen it," Josiah smiled recalling. "I would never have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. The guy who never loses self-control and sits for hours in ambush with his rifle can't wait a minute until the copier warms up."

"Aw hell, Chris, I was just in a bad mood," Vin muttered.

His mood was more than bad back then, the office without Chris unsettled and unnerved him. 

"Buck got a scolding from Travis for the noises at the workplace."

"Chris, it's not my fault!" Buck exclaimed. "Just my ex-girlfriend saw me with my current girlfriend in a restaurant, but she didn't know that she was already the ex and came here one morning…"

"We're lucky that we didn't have to change all the monitors in the bullpen after that visit," Nathan commented. 

"Okay, boys, fun is over, let's get to work now," Chris ordered.

7777777

That evening Chris and Vin kindled a fire in the fireplace for the first time this fall. The flame cast a cozy reflection around and warmed the two men who settled on the couch. Chris stretched out, putting his head on Vin's knees and enjoying the peace and quiet. It was a perfect evening to start a conversation about the issue that occupied all his thoughts lately. 

"Vin, move to the ranch. For good."

Vin's hand, which was playing with Chris' hair, stilled. Chris looked up and met the confused gaze.

"You're living here anyway. Give up the apartment in Purgatory."

Vin knew he'd spent every night at the ranch and almost all his belongings were here, but to make the final, official move… it was so official. And irrevocably. And frighteningly. Although he knew he couldn't spend nights in his apartment anymore. When he slept there, the nightmares about Chris dying overwhelmed him. They drove him crazy when Chris was in the hospital, they soaked his pillow, his bed, the air in his apartment. But to make the last step and completely give up his life… And there was one more problem.

"How will it be taken at work? That we live together at the ranch?"

"Vin, we talked about it. About our relationship and our work."

"I remember and my point is still the same. It put your career in danger." 

"Vin, nobody will know about it. Agents' addresses are secret info. Apart from the boys, only Travis will know it. Travis needs me so he'll close his eyes. He can twist the rules when he needs to. But if it'll be a problem… well, I'll quit ATF."

"Just like that?"

Chris shrugged. "This loss I can survive."

They were silent a few minutes, then Chris said, "After a couple of years I can retire with a full pension, after 20 years of federal employment with the SEALs and the ATF. We can turn this place into a real ranch."

"You're so old?" Vin teased him.

"I'll show you "old"," Chris hissed and clasped Vin's neck with his hand, pulling him down. 

 

They were lying on the thick carpet near the fireplace, trying to catch their breaths. Chris's eyes were closed, his chest heaving and Vin smiled smugly. He couldn't tear himself away from Chris' perfect body, his fingers were sliding over Chris' smooth ivory skin. Vin's hand moved up and tousled Chris' soft golden hair then lingered near Chris' right ear. Vin's index finger outlined it and began to play with a torn lobe. Vin always wondered about this deformation and asked, "From the SEALs?"

"No. Before. In high school. Got in a fight with one guy."

Vin chuckled. Then a new thought occurred to him. 

"You know, if I had met you in school, I would have hated you. And you would have hated me back. You were the school star, the captain of the football team, cocky as hell and everybody loved you. The exact opposite of me."

The shit-eating grin curled Chris' lips. "I wouldn't hate you. I just wouldn't notice the greenhorn in short pants." 

Vin punched his ribs on the left side. "You're lucky I didn't notice the bigheaded bastard who needed to be toned down."

Chris laughed. Then suddenly he turned serious. 

"You're so young. Sometimes I really feel like an old bastard near you. You have your whole life ahead. How can I ask you to connect your life with this old wreck?"

"Never felt myself young. Never wanted to be with somebody. Wanna be only with you." 

"Then move here."

Vin didn't answer. His fingers touched Chris' chest and circled the healed wound. Finally he said, "We have matched scars. Mine from a knife and yours from a bullet. Maybe it's destiny." 

"Vin, promise me you'll move to the ranch."

"I don't want to be in the ATF without you. Maybe we really should quit. I used to have a dream a long time ago…"

Vin stammered and blushed. Chris urged him gently, "What dream?" 

"It's weird, Chris."

"Vin, nothing is weird in dreaming."

"I wanted to study English literature. Maybe when you retire, I can go to college. I'm tired of killing people. I'm tired of being afraid to lose someone I care about." 

"It's a good dream. You can make it come true."

Vin looked into Chris' eyes. Chris believed in him, really believed he can do it. 

"Promise me," Chris whispered.

"I promise."

END


End file.
